The Void
by The Illustrious Crackpot
Summary: *WARNING! MAJOR SPOILERS!* For far too long, Presea was lost to a void, feeling nothing and experiencing nothing. Now that she's left that void, she's found another in her life...and this will be impossible to fill.


_A/N: __**WARNING! SPOILERS INVOLVING PRESEA'S BACKSTORY AND OTHER ELEMENTS OF THE GAME! DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU!**_

_Now, all that aside, I'm actually surprised that I've officially ventured into this fandom...I'd always thought that if I ever wrote anything for _TOS_, it'd be a Colloyd, and yet here I am with an introspective Presea piece involving the smidgenest of GenisXPresea hintings. But then I happened to be thinking about the discrepancy between Presea's "true age" and the age of her body, and I began to wonder about some things..._

**The Void**

(The Illustrious Crackpot)

I am incapable of love.

...That is a misstatement. I do possess the ability to love. At the very least, I _did_ possess it a very long time ago.

I loved Alicia. With all my heart and soul I loved my little sister, just as much as I loved Daddy. Even more than my instinct, the feeling that says it sounds _right_ to say I loved them, I know that it is true. Whenever they were happy, I became happy. Whenever they were sad, I became sad. I enjoyed seeing them happy, and I disliked seeing them sad, and I always wanted to protect them, to keep them happy and safe; that is how I know that I loved them.

But I can no longer love.

I can care; that is more than I have been able to do until very recently, but it still is not love. When I see an injured animal, I feel badly because it is probably in pain and I know how terrible it is to be in pain. But that does not mean that I love the animal. I pity it. I care for it, if only for a moment. But I do not love it.

Even with people. Even with these people I have been traveling with, with whom I have...bonded, in a sense. They are the first people that I have truly been close to since the return of my emotions, and I do respect and admire them. Lloyd Irving I admire because of his strength of will, his dedication to pursue what he believes is right, no matter what the cost. Colette Brunel I admire because of her kindness, her willingness to sacrifice everything for the sake of another being, even if it is one that she does not know. Raine is very wise and patient, and Sheena is very passionate, and, although I am still not glad of what he has done, I respect Regal for the great lengths he has gone to in order to atone for his actions. But, as much as I respect and admire, and as much as I may pity and care when I sense that they are sad, I do not love them.

Perhaps it is because I have not spent much time with them; though we have been through so much together that it seems longer, I have only been consciously aware of them for less than a month. Perhaps if I were to wait a bit more, and if a bit more of my emotions were to return to me, perhaps I could love them.

Though that would not be nearly enough. Not in the sense of "love" that I am searching for.

...It would be nice to be accepted. I realize that I am accepted by this group—for if not, why would they bother to travel with me at all?—but I do not _feel_ it as I believe I should. Likely I am being irrational. It should be enough that I can feel secure with these people around me, knowing that they will look after my welfare and provide me with support when necessary. But I feel as though I should be..._warm_ when they are nearby. As though there should be a higher level of contentment in simply knowing that I am accepted. Perhaps I felt that way with Daddy and Alicia; I cannot remember that as clearly as I wish. Perhaps I have never felt that way at all. But I believe I would like to feel that way, if such a feeling does indeed exist outside the realms of fantasy.

I know that it is nice to return from gathering firewood and be greeted with smiles and words of thanks. I know that it is nice to eat a pleasant meal and know that, although the food has not been prepared especially for me, the cook knew that I would be eating it and was sure to make enough so that I could have my own share. I know that it is nice to be traveling with these people that I wish to call "friends" or "family" even though I know that neither word can accurately describe everything that they are and do.

...Yet, selfish and cruel as it is, I desire more.

My memories of the time when I was possessed by the Exsphere are indistinct at best, but the sheer number of years weighs heavily on my mind. I cannot describe the anguish I feel as I am constantly reminded of that lost time, looking around at "friends" who should be my juniors and "friends" who should be my equals and knowing that, to them and to all other eyes in this world, I appear as and am treated as infinitely younger. Even Regal, who likely knew my true age even before the others began to suspect (if indeed any did), seems unable to move past my juvenile appearance to speak to me as he spoke to my younger sister.

But I do not doubt that it is fitting that I should be treated as a child, for that is also the extent to which my mind has matured. Although through those lifeless years I have gained much technical knowledge, I experienced nothing, and so could not in any circumstances consider myself superior to any of my companions, regardless of how large the gap in our true ages. Lloyd, Colette, and all of the others have made mistakes and learned from them, ultimately bettering themselves in the end. I have not had the opportunity to do so. Because of this, every day is an agonizing struggle to try to keep up, to try to learn not to touch the pot _before_ I burn myself, to try to learn to withhold an observation _before_ I cause someone insult. I am twelve years old. It does not matter how many times I have felt my heart beat, or how many years have flown by without a second glance. Mentally and physically, I _am_ twelve years old.

And yet there are other parts of me that feel each decade that I have endured, parts that I myself do not fully understand. At times those parts seem to be some physical aspect of my body; other times they are odd sensations that entice me to do illogical things. I have not yet fully entered into this strange new realm of feeling, but at the edge of my consciousness I am always aware of just how quickly my blood rushes through my body and how my skin tingles whenever it is near the skin of someone else.

I am not fond of how crudely Zelos may speak about such matters, but sometimes his vulgar remarks to Sheena send an odd thrill down my spine. When Colette tenderly slips her hand into Lloyd's waiting grasp, my stomach begins to ache. I should not feel this way. I am certain I did not feel this way before my Exsphere was equipped. I would have remembered such dryness in my mouth, such _heat_ radiating from my very core. This..."condition" must have originated while I was unaware, responding to some trigger uninhibited by my lack of physical and mental growth. All these years of being unable to act upon this strange, half-want, half-need have made this situation almost unbearable.

For this, I desire love. But it could not be the simple love of a child; to fill this gap, it would have to be the love of an adult, complex, enigmatic...and unattainable.

There is no one for me to love; not in the way I require. I do not have the skills or experience necessary to be an adult, to even know how an adult would love. What partner would stand to endure such a thing? What partner would guide me through everything, step by step, instruct me in how exactly I should act both in public and in private? Even more, what partner could match up to me? I would require an adult to teach me, but an adult would know me for a child and the relationship would be a mere mockery. I could pretend to be an adult myself, but that does not change my body. Despite my age, bedding me would be like violating a child, and for all I wish to relieve myself of this fearsome hunger, I do not think I could ever find peace with a partner who would take such an action lightly.

...I am told that Genis "likes" me. I know nothing of the implications of such a statement, or exactly what nature this "like" possesses, as he has said nothing of this matter and I was unaware of it until Sheena spoke indiscreetly about him. However, though I am surprised and happy that I have been more than accepted, that I am "liked"...I hope that his "like" does not amount to more than our oft-proclaimed "friendship". I would be ill-equipped to deal with more. The torment would double, with roles so reversed from the previous conundrum—we are alike in body, but still, compared to me, he is so young. To defile that boy, to carve a mark into his purity even with such a chaste act as a kiss, would be an unspeakable crime. He is _too_ young. I could not cope with such a burden, to know that I was the one to spoil that innocent star.

For this I remain alone, unable to love, suffering under sixteen years of repressed longings without any hope for outlet.

"_P-P-Presea? Uh...um, can I t-talk to you for a moment?"_

He fumbles over his words and blushes, seeming unable to look me in the eye. But he is only a boy, after all.

"_I-I mean...I _need_ to talk to you."_

Yet now he steps, for a moment, into manhood. His gaze is strong, level with my own, and his fists are clenched firmly at his sides. But it lasts for that moment only, and he has retreated back into awkwardness.

"_Um...uh...well..."_ He sighs, bowing his head. _"Wait for me, okay?"_

Strangely, I discover that I am smiling. Boy as he is, he has impressed me. And, I realize, not for the first time.

Though I mean it in a different sense than he does, I nod slowly. Because I think it is the truth; perhaps I will be disappointed, or perhaps I will be pleased. Right now it matters not, because that is the future and this is the present.

I will wait for him.


End file.
